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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23932762">Sincerely, your best and most dearest friend</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noonez_Trash/pseuds/Noonez_Trash'>Noonez_Trash</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek &amp; Paul/Levenson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Author Is Sleep Deprived, Evan Hansen Has Anxiety, Heidi Hansen Tries, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I forgot how to tag, LITERALLY, Nice Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen), POV Evan Hansen, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm, a little bit, evan hansen tries his best, evan hansen's letters, he's trying, they both are tbh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:15:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,860</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23932762</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noonez_Trash/pseuds/Noonez_Trash</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>this is basically if Evan wrote about anything but Zoe in his letter when he's in the computer lab. </p>
<p>-</p>
<p>I literally have had probably less then three hours of sleep before writing this so if it's bad I blame that and that's the reason why I cant come up with a summary</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Evan Hansen &amp; Connor Murphy, Evan Hansen &amp; Heidi Hansen, Evan Hansen &amp; Jared Kleinman, No Romantic Relationship(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sincerely, your best and most dearest friend</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He slides down the bathroom wall until he’s sitting on the dirty floor with his knees pulled up to his chest. He feels the tears fill his eyes as he rests his head in his arms. </p>
<p>Lunch had just begun and he really shouldn’t be crying in the shitty school bathroom. He should be out in the cafeteria getting while standing in the obnoxious long lunch line. He should be getting horrible school food. It was the first day of school and he really shouldn't be crying in the bathroom but he was. </p>
<p>He tries to calm himself by taking a large breath but it backfires miserably. As he tries to breathe his breath hiccups and then he’s hyperventilating. </p>
<p>Oh god, he can’t breathe. He should be able to breathe but panic resides in his brain and told his lungs to stop doing their job. He distantly feels his shoulders shaking against the wall. He can’t see because the tears streaming down his face block his vision and make it blurred. </p>
<p>He doesn’t realize but his nails dig into his fingertips and they begin to sting and draw blood. </p>
<p>He’s trying to get his breathing in check so he could be a semi-normal human being again but it’s an uphill fight. He’s almost presentable when he hears it, the bell rings signaling the end of lunch. There goes eating lunch, I guess. </p>
<p>On shaky legs, he makes his way to the sink and splashes his face with cold water to try and get the blotchy-ness off of his face. He looks back up at the mirror. He looks like a mess but he can't dwell in it much. He has to get to class. </p>
<p>With a shaky sigh, he grabs his backpack and slings it over his shoulder. He takes a quick look around the room before heading out the door and to his next class.</p>
<p>He goes through the rest of the school day slowly. It mostly blended into a semi recognizable blur of new teachers and syllabuses. </p>
<p>He sits in the computer lab staring at the blank doc in front of him. He really needed to write his therapy letter but he can’t think of any good things that happened today. The day had been horrible. Rubbing his index finger into his thumb he hesitated before typing out the words. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dear Evan Hansen, </p>
<p>Today is going to be a good day and here’s why: that’s a lie it wasn’t a good day. It won't be an amazing week and it certainly won't be an amazing year. </p>
<p>I got no one to sign my cast so it’s still just the blinding wight chunk of fiberglass wrapped around my arm. That was to be expected though because why would anyone want to write on Evan Hansen’s cast?</p>
<p>Connor Murphy probably hates me. No, he definitely hates me. He thinks I laughed at him in the hallway this morning and I didn’t get to tell him it was because I was nervous or on the brink of an anxiety attack before he shoved me to the floor before walking away. </p>
<p>I feel bad I made Zoe mad at him. </p>
<p>I couldn't make it the whole day before I broke down in the bathroom and had a panic attack. I tried to breathe but it really didn’t work. </p>
<p>But yeah, maybe today will end up a good day. </p>
<p>Sincerely, your best and most dearest friend,<br/>
Me. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>As he stares at the letter that he just wrote out into the doc He hits print. his phone buzzes, It was his mom so he answered the call.</p>
<p>“Honey, I knowI'm supposed to pick you up from your appointment. I'm stuck at work...Erica called in with the flu, and I'm the only other nurse that's aid on today...So, I volunteered because-” his mom sounded tired and concerned. </p>
<p>“That's fine.” It really wasn’t but he’s used to it. </p>
<p>“Um also uh go ahead and eat without me. I won't be home 'til late. I'm going straight from here to class. We got those Trader Joe's dumplings in the freezer!” </p>
<p>“Maybe.” he probably wasn’t going to eat those. Maybe he’d have Cheerios, they were easy. </p>
<p>“Hey d'you write one of those letters yet? Dr. Sherman's expecting you to have one! 'Dear Evan Hansen, this is gonna be a good day, and here's why.'” </p>
<p>“Yeah, no I already finished it. Um... I'm in the computer lab right now printing it out.”</p>
<p>“It was a good day, honey.”</p>
<p>“It was...yeah it was great.” That was a lie, his letter said it all. </p>
<p>“Great. Oh great”<br/>
“I hope this is the beginning of a great year...Woo I think we both could use one of those huh?” she sounded almost hopeful.  “Oh shit. I have to run. Bye. Love you.”</p>
<p>“Bye.” </p>
<p>And then his mom hung up so he pocketed his phone.</p>
<p>“So uh- what happened to your arm?” a voice sounded to his right. Evan felt himself flinch at the voice. He looks over and- oh it’s Connor. Connor Murphy, the one that probably hates him asking how he broke his arm. </p>
<p>He should respond, shouldn’t he? Before he had another reason to hate him. </p>
<p>“Oh… I uhm fell out of a tree? So uhm yeah.” </p>
<p>“You fell out of a tree?” </p>
<p>oh, he’s probably judging him now. Who falls out of a tree in highschool? </p>
<p>“Yeah” he feels himself start to cling onto the bottom of his shirt. </p>
<p>“Well, that’s the saddest fucking thing I have ever heard.” Connor chuckles slightly “oh my god.”</p>
<p>I  mean it would probably be sadder if you knew what actually happened but no one does so you're fine. You can laugh and call me an acorn. </p>
<p>“Y-yeah I know…” </p>
<p>Connor looks down at his arm. “Um no one’s uh, signed your cast?” </p>
<p>good at pointing out the obvious, thanks. I didn’t need another reminder that no one cared. </p>
<p>“No... uh I know” </p>
<p>“Well, uhm I’ll sign it?” What? </p>
<p>“Oh uh, you d-don’t have to? It completely fine-” </p>
<p>“Do you have a sharpie?” </p>
<p>oh, so he actually wanted to sign my cast. He quickly rummaged through his bag and pulled out a black sharpie. Connor took the pen from his hand and pulled his arm towards him which-“Ow” </p>
<p>Then Connor began to write his name in large capital letters all the way across the front side of his cast. He hadn’t expected it but hey he couldn't really complain because now someone had signed his cast. His mom wouldn’t have to get sad about him not having anyone to sign is cast but now she’d ask who Connor was. How would she take it if he said it was the kid who hated him and shoved him in the hallway before class? </p>
<p>“Oh.” Evan stared at his now not blank cast. “Great, thanks...” </p>
<p>“Yeah, well, now we can both pretend to have friends,” Connor said while looking back up at his face. </p>
<p>“Yeah...” Evan looks down at his shoes “that’s a good point.” because why would he want to be real friends? </p>
<p>Evan continued to stare at his shoes and an awkward silence sat in the middle of them. </p>
<p>“Is this yours?” Evan looked up to see Connor holding a paper. “I found it in the printer. It’s-it’s uh ‘Dear Evan Hansen’...” Connor looks up from the paper. “That’s uh you right?” his eyes flick back down to the paper in his hand.</p>
<p>Evan feels his eyes widening. Oh god, Connor Murphy has his therapy letter. Connor Murphy, the kid that might not hate him as much as he thought, is reading his therapy letter. The letter he talked about how much he thought he hated him. The panic ebbs into his brain and his hands begin to sweat. </p>
<p>“Oh yeah n-no that’s uhm a letter. A p-personal assignment so could uhm maybe not read it? I- could uhm please...can I please have that paper back?”  </p>
<p>Connor doesn’t listen and continues to read through his letter. His eyebrows are drawn together as he reads. Oh god, now he’s angry at him again. Is he mad? He hasn’t started yelling at him yet… though he hasn’t given the letter back either. </p>
<p>“What’s this for Hansen?” </p>
<p>“It’s…” Evan contemplates lying but it would be stupid if he did “it’s uh it’s a therapy assignment? ‘Dear Evan Hansen. Today's going to be a good day and uhm, here's why?’ it’s supposed to be encouraging or something…” </p>
<p>“You seem to have failed the encouraging part.”’ Connor finally looks up from his letter. </p>
<p>“Oh uhm yeah… I uh guess I did.” </p>
<p>“Y’know two of the things you wrote in here are false.” </p>
<p>“W-what?” </p>
<p>“Well one, I signed your cast so no you can’t say no one did,” Connor tapped his cast as he said this “and two, I don't hate you, Hansen.” </p>
<p>Evan looked down at the large ‘CONNOR’ written on his cast. </p>
<p>“Oh yeah I uhm I guess that’s true…” he looked back up at Connor “w-wait you don’t hate me?” </p>
<p>“Why would I? You said you weren't laughing at me so there's no reason to be mad. I was in the wrong. I lashed out at you for no reason.” </p>
<p>“O-oh uhm okay.” Evans' hands were still sweating uncomfortably and he started to pick at his cast. </p>
<p>“Do you want some band-aids?” </p>
<p>“W-what?” </p>
<p>“Your fingers are picked to shit,” Connor motions to his hands “ do you want band-aids?” </p>
<p>“Oh, uhm no-no I’m uh I'm good?” </p>
<p>“You sure? I have some in my bag.” </p>
<p>“You really don’t have to! It’s not uh it’s not that bad…” it really wasn’t, his fingers had been way worse. </p>
<p>“Here just-” Connor dug into his bag and pulled out a box of band-aids. “Take the fucking band-aids Hansen.” he thrust the box towards him. </p>
<p>“Uh.. thank you.” he opened the box and grabbed a couple of band-aids and wrapped them around his fingers. </p>
<p>“Yeah, no problem.” Connor watched as he put the band-aids on his fingers. “You should re-write that letter.” </p>
<p>“Why?” </p>
<p>“Since it’s no longer factual, It isn’t good to lie Hansen”</p>
<p>“O-oh yeah that’s...right but uhm I’m going to miss the bus  if I do.” </p>
<p>“So? I’ll drive you.” </p>
<p>“You can drive?” </p>
<p>“I’ll just borrow my sister's car. She won’t notice, she has jazz band tonight.” </p>
<p>“Oh you don’t have to…” </p>
<p>“Sit, Hansen.” </p>
<p>“O-okay.” he sits down in front of the computer he had previously used. Connor sits next to him and watches as he tries to figure out something to say. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dear Evan Hansen,</p>
<p>Today is going to be a good day and here’s why: you got someone to sign your cast! Well you didn’t ask them two but they said they wanted to. Connor Murphy actually doesn’t hate you...so that’s good! He’s nicer than what I thought he’d be and he said he’ll give you a ride to Therapy so you could rewrite your letter. </p>
<p>Oh! He also gave you band-aids for your fingers. </p>
<p>So today wasn’t so bad even though Jared called you an acorn and you missed out on lunch. </p>
<p>Sincerely, your best and most dearest friend,<br/>
Me.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>if you see this, hopefully I'm sleeping now because I'm tired </p>
<p>hope you liked it</p></blockquote></div></div>
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